DOOMED YOUTH

                        chainchosen | indie & selective paranormal oc | written by Dee 

                                       heroic / sacrifice 

that was among the stranger reactions lewis had seen throughout the eras. poor pat had broken down in tears out of concern for his scouts, the captain had spent weeks insisting that this was all a delusion of his dying brain, and julian… well, predictably, julian had thrown an absolute fit. most of them had been far too focused on the fact that they were dead in the first place to worry about where they had died. “ that’s… not usually the bit that trips people up, but yes, i’m afraid so. sorry to be the bearer of bad news, as it were. ”

     PEIP was well aware of the existence of powerful people who opposed of dark forces. Usually, however, these people either are unaware of their abilities, or live far from the United States in places where ancient magics still have weight. Finding a Scotsman in the middle of their crisis intervention protocol, swinging a chain already identified as silver, in the woods of Hatchetfield was unexpected to say the least.

     ( “I thought the only person who would come here from ‘across the pond’ was that duchess obsessed with finding Chumby.” Xander had remarked sardonically after hearing the news. )

     She had made a fuss when being escorted back to basecamp and, according to Lowell, still acting surly. He didn’t go into detail, but John could make some educated guesses. Before he went in though, he sent another agent on a mundane fetch quest. He had a feeling in his gut that they might need it, and he tended to trust his intuition. Item recovered now in hand, the door opened to her temporary holding room.

     She dressed alternatively, and John could only wonder what had gone on in her life to lead her to fighting demons and their ilk. Before he could talk, she was already talking, immediately trying to establish herself as in charge at this moment. It was almost enough to make John crack a small smile, though his eyes did soften a bit.

     Without a word, he set a bag on the table – a creasy fast food bag containing a veggie burger and fries that he pushed towards her. “I figured you might be hungry.” He said, his tone no-nonsense as if of course she would be hungry after fighting demons, who wasn’t? “I apologize for not getting a drink order beforehand.” With that, John sat in the chair across from her. 

       “My name is General John McNamara, I am the head of this operation. Thank you for helping us rout this threat.”  The young woman was clearly on edge, and honestly she had every right to be. “Let me assure you, you’re not under arrest. We will be letting you go, and returning your weapon to you before the night passes. I would like to talk and exchange information.”

     “It’s not everyday we meet someone like you in Hatchetfield, after all.”

Huh. So this is...unexpected. Flick’s been preparing herself for shouted orders and invasive questions, not a fast food bag being slid across the table towards her. Common sense tells her to be wary of food offered by military strangers, but she ignores it in favour of unwrapping the burger. Sue her, she’s hungry and besides, what’s the worst it’s going to do-kill her? She doesn’t bother asking how he knows she’d want a veggie burger, honestly stranger things have happened to her in the past week than this, and her only regret is he didn’t think to get her a drink too. 

“Flick,” she says by way of introduction and peace offering. While he talks she shoves as much food into her mouth as she physically can, nodding around it to show she’s listening. God, when was the last time she ate? Either it’s been longer than she thought, or this is just a really good burger-maybe a bit of both. She decides not to dive into his someone like you comment, uncertain if he means Scottish, gothic, or monster hunter, and instead focuses on the first part of his statement. 

@chainchosen​.  /   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻.

“ —well, put simply, miss, you’re dead. ” not, perhaps, the most tactful way of delivering the news to a freshly-deceased spirit, but lewis had never exactly been known for his tact, in life or in death. the bluntness earned him a sharp tut of disapproval from pat, but he disregarded that without so much as a glance over his shoulder. the girl had to come to terms with the fact of the matter one way or another — better sooner than later. “ dreadful shame about the body, but someone will be along to collect it, i’m sure. ”

she’s not like other girls, she’s worse 

If there’s one thing Flick hates more than being called to deal with demons in the woods of a shady American town because some teens thought recreating their favourite horror films was a fucking great idea-if there’s one thing she hates more than that, it’s the goddamn military. Her job is hard enough already without a bunch of pricks with guns swarming all over the place like they own the place. Endearing herself with the local forces isn’t one of Flick’s better skills, and if she’s being generous she can understand why coming across a demon goop covered Scotswoman swinging a giant spike covered chain around might be, well, concerning-but she doesn’t really feel like being generous right now. What she feels like is a nice long bath, some painkillers and a veggie burger, but the military assholes have her hold up in their basecamp in the now abandoned town for the time being. Bastards. She really does want that burger. 

The door to the room she’s being kept in opens and Flick looks up from where she’s been trying to pick the worst of the drying demon goop out of her jeans. With any luck she’ll be able to clear this whole thing up, maybe play the frightened normie who got caught up in something too big for her, and be at the diner she spotted on the way here in forty minutes or so. Unfortunately the man walking into the room looks like a pretty serious no-nonsense general kind of guy, and Flick sighs, long and dramatic. God, she should never have come to the states.